Alpha Male
by Teekl
Summary: In the world we've come to know, Leo and Raph constantly compete, bicker, and fight for dominance. But in this alternate world, Donnie and Mikey are the A Team, and their fights can escalate far beyond anything we've seen from Leo and Raph. Reverse!Turtles AU; Rated M for violence, language and smut: Details inside.
1. Prologue

****Author's Note: Reverse!Turtles is a TMNT AU devised by mellowmonsters on Tumblr. If I could link you to the Masterpost I would, but if you just search it up on Google you're sure to come across it. I do not own Reverse!Turtles! I'm simply a big fan. Shoutout to the true owner! Basically, in this alternate universe, the personalities of all the characters are reversed. Leonardo snapped under the pressure of leadership, so now he has brain damage and an insatiable desire to be led; Michelangelo is a bloodthirsty animal who kills whomever he wants; Donatello is an apathetic sociopath with a taste for experimenting on live subjects; Raphael is a crybaby and a pushover, utterly traumatized by what his brothers have become. Splinter is a neglectful father who doesn't care what his sons do beyond training.****

 **In this AU, the birth order is the same, but Donnie and Mikey are the dominant brothers (or alpha males) while Leo and Raph are the meek ones.**

 **This story is rated M for language, violence, smut… uh, basically literally** _ **everything**_ **that could be considered mature content. You have been warned!**

 ** **If you like what you see, please let me know in the reviews! I think I'll only continue this story if people show an interest, so I'll think of this as a little test run to see if readers buy what I'm selling.****

 **Note that this next bit is** _ **not**_ **Chapter One but merely a prologue/teaser, a little snippet snatched from the middle of the story. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Prologue**

" _Aww, c'mon, brah." Mikey tilted his head, speaking in a sing-song voice. "I was just having a little fun."_

 _Donnie didn't look up as he flicked the needle in his hand._

" _And besides, it doesn't even have to be me," the orange-masked ninja went on, craning his neck so that he could better view his brother. It wasn't exactly easy to see when the youngest turtle was strapped down to a metal table, but he made do with what he had. "You could just use Raph. That big baby won't even put up a fight."_

 _Don pressed on the syringe until a few droplets squirted out the top, and his mouth curved up in a smirk. His stained lab coat swayed as he turned and looked down on his baby brother. "True enough." He took several paces forward until he was practically standing directly above his soon-to-be-victim. "But I_ want _it to be you, Mikey." The smirk widened into a grin. "Why, you're my_ favorite _."_

" _Awwwwwww," Mikey crooned, batting his baby blue eyes. "I love you, too." He flinched ever so slightly as the needle slid into his skin and injected whatever hellish poison Donatello had fancied that fine evening. Up until that moment, Michelangelo had been trying not to let Donnie get to him, but it wasn't long before he broke into a bout of demented laughter._

" _I'm going to fuck you up so bad when I get out of here!"_

" _Mhm."_

" _You fucking cunt." He jerked against his restraints. "Take a bath!"_

 _Donnie snorted. "Do you even know what a bath_ is _, you neanderthal?" Donnie never bothered with personal hygiene, but Mikey was so animalistic that it wasn't uncommon for both of them to reek of dried blood by the end of the day._

 _Mikey offered no response but merely descended into twisted laughter again while Don readied his scalpel._

 _It was true that he could have experimented on anyone; Leo and Raph would have made much tamer victims. But he didn't want tame. He wanted to subject wild, insane Mikey to his will. He needed to remind his younger brother of where he stood in the food chain._

 _In a word, he needed to be the alpha male._


	2. Thinking

**Author's Note: Happy Friday!**

 **Well, I've decided to pursue this story. I like where it's taking me so far.**

 **A special thanks to those who have faved/followed! That means a lot to me. Thanks so much and I hope you enjoy the first chapter!**

* * *

"Ten o'clock, Donnie!"

Donatello whirled around and thrust his bō staff… into empty air.

"Ha! Psyche!"

Donnie's eyelids drooped in exasperation. He whipped out a shuriken and let it loose; it ricocheted off of several surfaces before it finally came zooming straight for the youngest turtle. Mikey barely moved out of the way in time so that it just grazed his shoulder. "Hey!" he shouted. His indignation lasted long enough for a Kraangdroid to sneak up behind him, but that's as far as it got. In the next instant, Mikey had impaled the alien with his kusarigama and was casually tearing it apart as though he were pulling apart string cheese.

"Leo, pick up the pace," Donnie drawled, twirling his naginata and slicing a Kraangdroid with scientific precision. "I have DNA samples in the centrifuge and I'd like to get back to them sooner rather than later."

Leonardo, who had been repeatedly driving his katana through a long-dead Kraang like a toddler trying to jam a square block into a circle-shaped hole, glanced up with wide eyes, tiny pupils and a demented smile. He continued to stab the katana through the same dead Kraangdroid, only much faster now. It took all of Donnie's willpower not to drop his face into his hands smack dab in the middle of battle.

"No, you braindead moron, start killing more Kraang! _Different_ Kraang! For God's sake, that one is already dead!"

Leonardo frowned, sensing that he had failed somehow. He got up, ripped his katana out of the dead Kraang, and lunged for a new opponent, determined to follow orders better this time.

"God, what am I, a babysitter?" Donnie muttered, staff arcing through the air and slamming another Kraangdroid into the pavement. "It's like a fucking daycare over here."

"Clean-up on Aisle Seven!" Mikey called from a few feet away, piercing another Kraangdroid so that a spurt of alien blood sprayed Donnie in the face. The genius was 90% sure it had been intentional on Mikey's part. As the orange-masked turtle dashed past, Donnie swung his bō and swept Mikey's feet out from under him. Mikey came crashing down to the floor with an animalistic snarl.

Soon, Donnie felt the piercing agony of Mikey's kusarigama digging into his foot.

"Ow! _Goddamnit!_ Mikey!"

"Oops," was Mikey's innocent reply. "Sorry, D, I didn't see you there!"

"Like hell," Donnie muttered, snapping his uninjured leg up in a roundhouse kick that caught the nearest Kraangdroid in the head. Then he knelt down to yank the kusarigama out of his foot, since Mikey was making no move to remove it. In fact, the orange-masked turtle had already abandoned his weapons altogether and leapt back into the fray, tearing opponents limb from limb with his bare hands.

"Alright, Mikey, that's enough," Donnie announced as the youngest turtle practically curb-stomped the last of the aliens. "Mikey, we're leaving. I don't have time for this. Leo," he turned to the blue-masked turtle, who sat on his heels like a puppy ready to roll over for a treat. "Where's Raph?"

Leo glanced around blankly at the decimated battleground.

"Raph!" Donnie called, plucking his naginata out of a Kraangdroid as easily as if he were plucking a maraschino cherry off of an ice cream cone. "You can come out, everything is dead including my patience." He turned to start leaving.

"Raaaph!" Mikey sang, picking up his bloodstained nunchaku and twirling them casually. He whistled a few shrill notes. "Come out come out wherever you aaare! Where'd you go? Ya missed all the fun!"

"Mikey!" Leo shouted, pointing behind a dumpster in the alleyway. The orange-masked turtle swaggered over to take a look and saw a familiar, quivering ball of green cowering behind all the filth. Leo glanced at Mikey to get confirmation that he had done good by locating their missing brother, perhaps hoping for some praise, but Mikey was completely absorbed in tormenting Raphael.

"Awww," Mikey cooed, leaning towards Raph and smirking when the red-masked turtle shrunk back in fear. "Don't be scared. You can come out now. After all," he spread his arms wide, "it's just your bros."

"Mikey," Raph pleaded, recoiling almost entirely into his shell to hide the tears streaming continually down his face.

"Come on out," Mikey said, but there was an edge of menace to his words which held the promise of a threat. Come on out, _or else_.

"Mikey," Raph whimpered, weaker this time.

"Come on! You're not scared of your little brother, are ya?" He turned to the blue-masked turtle and put his hands on his hips. "Leo, I think you're scarin' him."

"M-Mikey," Raph squeaked as his younger brother finally did away with 'asking nicely'. Smirking deviously all the while, Mikey looped the chain links of his nunchaku around Raph, yanking the older turtle out of his hidey hole with one swift tug. Raph was unable to hide his terror and discomfort as he practically staggered right into Mikey and the orange-masked turtle wrapped a rather fraternal arm around the red-masked turtle's shoulder.

"Chill, dude," Mikey grinned, jabbing a taunting finger at Raph's chest and dragging it down his plastron a few inches. "All the Kraang are dead, see?"

Raph's emerald irises roved the battlefield and widened in horror. Two crystal streams of tears began pouring afresh from his eyes. It was all too awful to behold; why was he the only one of his brothers who could see that?

His throat began to seize up, and he soon realized it wasn't just because he was sick to his stomach and brimming with tears: Mikey had tightened the chain until the youngest turtle was practically choking his older brother. Raph clutched at his neck in futility and made a few pathetic wheezing noises.

"What's that, Raph? I can't heeeear you!"

Raph hated this sensation, as though everything inside of him was burning and shriveling up into a lifeless husk, most notably his lungs and esophagus. He continued scratching desperately at his throat.

Leo, meanwhile, glanced between his brothers inquisitively. He knew Donnie and Mikey always knew what they were doing, _always_ , but he never really understood their reasons himself. He knew not to question; a part of him was simply wondering whether he should try to help with whatever Mikey was doing. But, he'd never been given orders. Best to stand by.

Mikey, for his part, was enjoying himself. He could always get a kick out of dominating his crybaby brother. It wasn't at all difficult to break Raph in every sense. He was like a fragile plaything…

In fact, maybe _too_ fragile.

The red-masked turtle was hella fun to mess with, but it was all too easy. Mikey could only choke the everloving crap out of him so many times before it lost its charm and became tedious, and he'd already done it at least five times this week alone.

He heaved a sigh and loosened the chain. A flood of air rushed into Raph's lungs, and the little crybaby collapsed to the ground, panting and shuddering and choking back more sobs. Mikey hooked his nunchucks onto his belt and stepped over his older brother.

What he needed was a challenge. Or at least something more creative to spruce things up. As long as it was violent and/or involved blood he was willing to give it a shot, but it had to be _different_. It had to be a _challenge_. A true tribute to his utter depravity.

He began to head for the nearest manhole. Donnie hadn't bothered to wait up for them; it turned out the purple-masked turtle wasn't kidding when he announced that his patience had run out. And he had exited in true ninja fashion: The genius had left no trace of himself other than that noxious odor which followed him wherever he went. And, of course, the mounds of dead Kraang that had been left in the brothers' collective wake.

* * *

Donatello was, unsurprisingly, back in his lab. It was like he had the ability to teleport there when he really wanted to. He couldn't help it. He was eager...well, eager wasn't exactly the word. His apathy and detachment didn't leave much room for things like eagerness. But he was _interested_ in his work, and wanted to get back to his DNA samples sooner rather than later. It was better than spending another second with those imbecilic numbskulls he regrettably called his brothers. Why he even bothered to stick around was beyond him.

 _Well_ , he thought, sliding a vial out of the centrifuge. For being a turtle with only three large fingers on each hand, his movements were impressively delicate. _Leo makes a very good test subject. Docile, obedient, does everything I say without question… Wouldn't want to leave_ that _behind._

And besides, Splinter, neglectful as he was, was still their teacher, and Donnie unfortunately felt he still had a few things to learn from the old rat. No, leaving now wouldn't offer much… except for sweet relief from the constant racket that loudmouthed Mikey made on a daily basis.

Mikey… The only one who never did what Donnie said. The only one who never listened. The only one who bounced all over the Lair making a mess of everything. The only one who would give Donnie the middle finger if he had any. The only one who absolutely refused to submit.

Donnie inserted a glass rod into the supernatant and frowned, looking thoughtful. The more he thought about it, the more he began to realize this was a problem. What if, when it came down to it, Leo and Raph chose to follow Mikey over Donnie? What if Mikey tried to take over completely? Donnie was smarter than all of them combined, but as far as physical strength was concerned, the genius would be outnumbered three to one.

It was more than just an annoyance. It was a threat.

A threat Donatello couldn't stand for.

Of course, he couldn't just rush in and challenge Michelangelo's authority head-on. Donnie had to go about this methodically. Strategically. Scientifically. In a game of chess, it simply didn't do to send the King to the front lines, and with every experiment, patience was key.

The first step to answering the question of "Who is in control" was research and observation.

And lo and behold, he could hear Mikey's laugh echoing all across the sewers as his brothers arrived back at the Lair.

* * *

 **A/N: And there we have it! My goal is to update with a new chapter every Friday, so expect Chapter Two next week. Please review if you enjoyed (or if you didn't; constructive criticism is always welcome as well). Thanks and have an awesome weekend!**


	3. Observing

**Author's Note: Happy (belated) Friday! I had meant to update hours ago but today was pretty busy. Plus, I'm pretty much as far behind as I can get in terms of timezones so it's probably Saturday for all y'all already.**

 **Anywho. I'm not quite as proud of this chapter as I was with the last one; nevertheless I hope you enjoy, and have an awesome weekend! :)**

* * *

Mikey flipped over the subway turnstiles and landed smack dab in the middle of the Lair, grinning to himself as he licked the last of the blood off of his kusarigama. Raph stepped gingerly inside and tried to sneak off to his room, hoping to the stars that his two younger brothers wouldn't try to detain him. Leo got stuck trying to figure out how to get past the turnstiles.

"Donnie!" Mikey trilled suddenly, his rather loud voice bouncing off of the sewer walls. The older two siblings froze in place, Raph being fearful of what was to come and Leo being attentive in case he was needed.

Only one thing pervaded the entire Lair: Silence.

Mikey's eyes narrowed. "Yo, D!" he called again, not once losing the sing-song tone in his voice, nor the insane laughter written all over his face.

Still silence.

"Leo," he turned to face the blue-masked turtle. "Be a bro and get Donnie for me."

Happy to be of service, Leonardo nodded, finally scaling the turnstiles and making for Donatello's lab. He made it as far as the doorway before he spotted his purple-masked brother. The genius was standing at one of his tables, seemingly absorbed in his work. "Donnie—"

"Tell Mikey to go fuck himself," Donnie retorted, not once lifting his eyes from the DNA sample in his hand.

Leonardo stepped outside of the lab and smiled an oblivious smile at Mikey.

"He said to go fuck yourself."

Mikey's eyelids slid down slightly, but never once did his blue irises lose their insane shimmer.

"Tell Donnie I need to ask him something important."

Leo turned back into the lab to relay the message, but Donnie had already heard everything.

"Tell Mikey I have more important things to attend to besides his asinine needs."

"Donnie says he has more important things to attend to besides your as-asasasa-ass—"

"Tell Donnie if he doesn't come out, I'm going to smash all his stupid science experiments over his head!"

"Tell Mikey if he doesn't fuck off, I'm going to strap him down and forcibly inject my science experiments up his ass."

"Tell Donnie I'm going to shatter his bones and use them to make soup in his own shell!"

"Ha!" Donnie scoffed. "You'd try."

And suddenly there he was, a half-lidded, unamused frown written all over his purple-masked face as he leaned in the doorway. With one fell swoop he kicked Leo down the lab's stairsteps and casually crossed one leg over the other. "So," his expression settled into one of distaste, "you can't even walk five steps to ask me something in person?" He sneered. "I would've liked the pleasure of denying you to your face."

On the surface, Don seemed annoyed (and he was) but what Mikey didn't know was that he was also taking mental notes about everything from body language to tone of voice. Banter like this between the two younger siblings was not uncommon, but this time there was a purpose to it. In just these last five minutes alone, Donatello had been able to make a dozen behavioral observations that would become useful in the near future. The results were more or less what he would have expected them to be: On the plus side, Leo seemed to take Donnie's orders without question. On the minus side, Leo also seemed to take _Mikey's_ orders without question.

Mikey smirked. His smirk twitched until he burst into laughter.

"All I was gonna ask," he explained, tilting his chin up, "was if you could take a bath. I could smell you from all the way out here."

Donnie's first reaction was to narrow his eyes in annoyance. He had half a mind to turn back into his lab and recommence his work, but even through his own horrendous odor the genius could sniff an opportunity.

"Sure," he intoned. "Why don't you go heat up the bathwater?"

"Ha—wait." Mikey tilted his head in slight confusion. "Huh?"

"Go on," he insisted, taking several long strides down the lab stairs, stepping over the dumb motionless heap that was Leonardo and coming to a stop by the couches. His legs folded up under him until he was sitting cross-legged on one of the cushions. "If you heat up the bathwater, I will."

Mikey's eye ridges sank in consternation. "Are you being sarcastic or something?"

"No," said Donnie sharply. "Now go heat up the water before I change my mind, you imbecile."

This left Mikey extremely confused.

For all his physical prowess and authority, he wasn't very good at mind games.

But Donnie was.

And Donnie recognized this.

Donnie knew how to exploit it.

This invoked a smirk from the genius's lips. Not only would it be helpful for Leo and Raph to witness Donnie wielding authority over Mikey, it would also allow him the opportunity to make more… behavioral observations.

Mikey, for his part, was not eager to submit to his older brother, but what was he going to do instead? He was the one who had suggested the bath in the first place. He would've sneered and told Donnie to do his own dirty work ( _literal_ dirty work in this case) but that train of thought came to a screeching halt when Mikey considered another possibility: what if Donnie was using that reverse psychology thingy? After all, this was all extremely out-of-character for the genius. What if Donnie _wanted_ Mikey to decline because of some ulterior motive? He would never just _volunteer_ to take a bath when he could be doing much more productive things with his precious time.

Mikey never hated his purple-masked brother's big brain so much as he did in moments like these. They made him question literally anything and everything until he had given himself a migraine. Simply trying to _think about what his brother was thinking about_ used up so much brainpower that he lost a lot of his authoritative air. That's usually why he avoided thinking in the first place, but this time he couldn't help it. Donnie had him in a corner.

For a solid 66 seconds, silence dragged itself across the room while the gears turned in Mikey's head. Donatello sat still, looking tranquil; he was perfectly content to watch expressions of puzzlement and frustration struggle across his brother's face. Every time it looked like a light had gone on in the orange-masked turtle's brain (or lack thereof), Mikey would find something that contradicted his idea and it would scatter like a blown-out candle. When at last he grew thoroughly tired of this tedious process, he discarded all thought and sneered.

"Do it yourself! I got better things to do." His blue eyes landed on Raph, who seemed to shrink to the size of a roach under his brother's gaze. A sadistic grin made its way onto Mikey's face at the thought of all the fun he had planned for the crybaby over the course of the next hour or so.

"Suit yourself," conceded Donnie, examining his own hand with absent disinterest. "Raph," he said, and the red-masked turtle's head snapped towards Don with the rapidity of a deer caught in headlights. Attentive-Good. "Why don't you go do that for me instead?"

Mikey's expression dropped faster than a glass vase, and shattered just as hard. "Actually," he cut in, looping a 'friendly' arm around Raph and squeezing with all the gentleness of a monkey wrench. "Raphie and I already had an evening of _fun_ planned."

The way he said 'fun' gave Raph the impression that it would be anything but, and if possible the red-masked turtle seemed to shrink even more, stifling a terrified whimper.

Donnie appeared entirely unamused. "Well, that's a damn shame that Raph's going to have to cancel on you."

"He's coming with _me_."

"Is he now?"

"That's right."

"I don't think so."

"Well," said Mikey, "let's just ask _Raph_ who he'd rather go with."

In that moment, both of them turned their menacing eyes towards the red-masked turtle.

And it was at this moment that Raphael shrunk to the size of an atom.

Everything around him seemed so much bigger than he was, capable of ending him without so much as a shallow breath, and he couldn't snuff out the growing dread festering in the pit of his stomach. Both of his brothers were looking intently at him; both pairs of eyes carried a silent threat in the glimmer between the pupils.

Against his better judgment, he thought of what would happen if he defied Donatello. A cold metal table. Sterilized gloves and leather restraints. Labs and needles and fluorescent lights, the bulbs gleaming on the silver of malicious scalpels, burning their awful sharpness into the back of Raph's eyelids as he slowly lost the will to resist. A swirl of emotion that could end in nothing but rivers of tears and a brokenness that left him feeling utterly hollow inside.

But… that would all happen no matter what… wouldn't it?

Then he thought of what would happen if he defied Michelangelo, and the wiser choice became clear.

The way those savage blue irises were digging into him like a thousand blades was enough to cement his preference into absolute certainty.

"M-M-M-"

Mikey leaned in and cupped a hand to his ear slit. "What's that Raph? I can't hear you."

"M-M-"

"Huh?"

"M-M-Mikey," Raph managed at last, not daring to make eye contact with Donatello. "I'll g-go with M-Mikey."

Mikey slapped Raph's shell. "'Attaboy!"

He turned a triumphant glare at Donnie.

Donnie, meanwhile, narrowed his eyes. This didn't come as a surprise per se, but that didn't make it any less hampering. Evidently, in the past, Mikey had dealt a great deal of pain to Raphael, and made it abundantly clear to him that no matter how great the pain, it could always be worse. Much worse. Mikey had made himself more frightening than Donnie, and therefore Mikey was in control.

It was partly Donatello's fault. Of late, he had allowed himself to grow lax about punishing his older brothers, too absorbed in his own projects to indulge his inner sadist.

But he knew that with his hyper intelligence and all the tools at his disposal, he could prove once and for all who was more efficient at the art of torture. And suddenly he was itching to get one of his brothers into his lab.

"Leo," he intoned, and the blue-masked turtle perked up. "Yes, you. You come help me in the lab."

Now it was Mikey's turn to frown. His rather territorial instincts were kicking in. Why couldn't Donnie just shut up and hole himself up alone in his lab like he usually did? Why did he have to try to steal Raph and Leo out from under him when Mikey would much rather have both of them all to himself? Screw that, he thought.

"No, Leo," Mikey interjected. "You come with me and Raph. Donnie's probably got labrats or whatever to experiment on."

Leo glanced between them and put on an expression of consternation. He hated it when he received conflicting orders. No rigid, linear chain of command had been established, though Donnie was typically the best at strategizing and giving commands. Mikey tended to let people know what he wanted them to do by more...physical means. Both of them exerted an air of authority, and both of them seemed to expect him to follow orders unquestioningly. Which he wanted to do. He wanted nothing more than to follow every order perfectly down to the very last detail. He wanted to be told he had done good. But how was he supposed to know which command was the _right_ command, when they clashed head on and contradicted each other?

Apparently, the purple-masked genius's brain had grown so large that his mental capacity now extended to telepathy, because he practically read Leo's mind.

"Don't listen to a word Mikey says, Leo," said Donnie smoothly. "I outrank him."

Well, that settled it. Leo promptly smiled (once again, the expression was totally oblivious and void of any true understanding), rose from his crumpled position on the floor, and walked decisively towards Donatello, who was looking quite victorious all of a sudden. Mikey, meanwhile, seemed atypically dour.

"C'mon, Raph!" he cajoled, and outside he was smirking, but Raphael could feel exactly how much pressure his younger brother was applying to his neck as he dragged the rather unwilling victim away.

"C'mon, Leo," Donnie said sharply, turning into his lab.


End file.
